Married To The Dragon Prince Against My Will-Chapter 282: GETTING HIM

Ashen paused at the threshold of their chambers, one hand already on the iron latch.

Lumina stood behind him, arms wrapped tight around her middle like she could hold herself together that way.

"Where are you going?" Her voice cracked. "Don’t you have some explanation to do?"

But he refused to turn. "I have something else to handle. Stay in the chambers for now. Don’t go anywhere without my order."

"What!" She stepped forward. "You can’t stop me from leaving the..."

"Lumina." He spun then, closing the distance in one stride. His hand shot out not hard, curling around the back of her neck. "I can. I am your husband. I will tell you what to do."

Her body trembled under his grip. Eyes wide, breath hitching. "You can’t freaking tell me what to do. I am my own boss..."

His fingers tightened just enough. "Don’t piss me off. I am not happy right now. Adding to my anger won’t end well."

Her lips sealed instantly. The fire in her eyes guttered, replaced with pain. Ashen saw it flash across her face and cursed inwardly.

He had gone too far. The voice in his skull hissed again... "Kill her." and he shoved it down with brutal force.

He exhaled, ragged, and pulled her upwards as his mouth crashed onto hers desperate, almost punishing.

She didn’t kiss back and just stood there, lips soft and unresponsive against his fury. He broke away, chest heaving.

Before he could step back, she lunged, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, cheek pressed hard to his spine.

"Ashen... I am sorry..."

He peeled her hands off gently. "Don’t get weak. Stay away."

But she tightened her hold, fingers digging into his tunic. "Ashen..."

He yanked free harder than he meant and strode out, slamming the door behind him. The bolt slid home with a final, heavy clunk.

He leaned against the corridor wall for what felt like an eternity, his forehead pressed firmly against the cold, unyielding stone.

His breath came in ragged gasps, as if he had just sprinted across a blood-soaked battlefield, his chest heaving with the weight of exhaustion and something far darker.

Then came the footsteps light, deliberate, echoing down the dimly lit hall like a predator’s approach. Breilla stood at the far end, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression unreadable in the flickering torchlight that danced across her sharp features.

"Don’t you want a medic?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence.

Ashen straightened slowly, every muscle protesting the movement. He forced his spine to align, his face a mask of stoic indifference despite the storm raging inside.

"We talked about this, Breilla. Don’t cross your limit." His words were a warning, edged with the exhaustion that threatened to pull him under.

She sighed theatrically, tilting her head as if his resistance was nothing more than a tiresome game.

"Hey... didn’t you want to save your wife?" she argued.

He glanced toward the darkened window, where night had fallen thick and starless, blanketing the world in oppressive shadow.

There was no point returning to the office tonight; the paperwork and strategies could wait. Exhaustion tugged at him like iron chains, dragging him toward surrender. But Lumina... She was the anchor, the reason he endured.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough, barely audible. "What do you have? Can you help?"

Breilla’s lips curved just a fraction, a subtle triumph flashing in her eyes like her carefully laid plan was unfolding exactly as she’d intended.

"Whatever. After all, you act so cold." She turned on her heel and walked away, her hips swaying with deliberate grace, each step a silent invitation.

Ashen stared at her retreating form for a few agonizing seconds, his mind a battlefield of indecision.

He hesitated, his hand twitching at his side, but the desperation for the medicine won out. With a curse under his breath, he followed.

She led him into her private chambers, final click, sealing them in this intimate cage.

Ashen stopped just inside the threshold, his arms crossed defensively over his chest, every muscle locked in rigid tension.

He felt like a cornered animal, his senses heightened, ready to bolt. Breilla moved to the center of the room with predatory elegance, her fingers slowly, unlacing the ties of her outer gown. The fabric loosened, revealing glimpses of pale skin beneath.

He spun away at once, facing the door, his cheeks burning with a mix of anger and unwanted heat. "What the hell are you doing?" he growled, his voice low and strained.

"Hey..." Her voice came softer now, teasing, laced with a sultry undertone that sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine.

"I am your woman too. Why can’t you look at my body?" The gown slipped to the floor with a soft rustle, and he could hear her stepping closer, her bare feet padding against the plush rug.

His hand was already on the latch, fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles whitened.

"I am leaving." The words were a declaration:

But before he could turn the handle, her palms pressed flat against his back, warm and insistent, sending jolts of electricity through his tunic. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear.

"You married me to get the medicine. I am friends with the Crown Prince’s wife. You think it will be hard to arrange?"

He turned only halfway, keeping his gaze averted, but it was enough to catch sight of her in nothing but a thin linen shift.

The fabric clung to every curve, translucent in the firelight, outlining her form with merciless clarity. His throat tightened, a surge of unwanted arousal stirring despite himself.

His mind flashed unbidden to Lumina in a similar pose, moonlight caressing her skin as she laughed low in their shared bed, her eyes sparkling with love and mischief.

The image burned like acid, twisting guilt into his gut. "How could he even think of this? Lumina, suffering because of him, waiting alone in their chambers, her life hanging by a thread."

Breilla stepped closer, undeterred by his half-turn. Her fingers trailed up his arms in slow, deliberate circles, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his sleeves. Higher they went, around his neck, brushing the sensitive skin over Adam’s apple with feather-light touches that made his pulse race. She was relentless, her touch a calculated assault on his senses, designed to erode his defenses one caress at a time.

"But before I get you the medic..." she murmured, her voice a velvet purr, "you repay me." Her lips grazed the hollow of his throat, soft and insistent, sending sparks through his veins.

His vision blurred at the edges, the room spinning slightly. The voice returned, louder now, silkier, more commanding.

"This is your woman... touch her. She wants you. You need this. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. "Stay back," he rasped, but it came out weaker than intended, laced with the strain of his internal battle.

Every fiber of his being screamed to push her away, to flee this trap, but his body betrayed him, heat pooling in his core.

She didn’t listen. Instead, she pushed gently but relentlessly, her hands guiding him backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He sat hard, the mattress dipping under his weight.

Breilla climbed onto his lap without hesitation, straddling him, her thighs pressing against his with intimate pressure. Her hands roamed his chest, fingers deftly working the laces of his tunic open, exposing inch after inch of skin to the cool air.

"Ash... Ashen..." Her voice slurred, sultry, as she peeled his shirt away, the fabric sliding off his shoulders. Cool air hit his heated skin, raising goosebumps, but her touch followed like fire, igniting every nerve. "Let’s take this further than it’s been... I am also your woman after all." She let out a soft, breathy moan as her mouth descended, hot and wet on his collarbone, trailing lower in a path of kisses that seared his chest.

Her fingers dipped beneath the waist of his trousers, bold and exploratory, seeking to unravel him completely. The room tilted, the voice roaring now like thunder in his skull.

"Take her. She’s yours. Give in." Ashen’s hands came up instinctively, gripping her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as his control frayed. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

His fingers froze at once, as if scalded, hovering just above her skin. The hesitation was a crack in his armor, and Breilla sensed it immediately, her smirk pressing against his skin like a brand. "Told you I have you to myself," she whispered triumphantly, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

She rocked forward, pressing her bare breasts to his chest, the warmth of her body enveloping him in a haze of sensation. Her lips found his neck again, sucking and biting lightly, each nip sending waves of weakness through him. One hand slid lower, bolder still, cupping him through the fabric, stroking with expert precision to coax a response from his traitorous body.

Ashen’s breath came ragged, uneven, sweat beading on his brow and trickling down his temples. Was it poison? Some drug laced into her perfume or her touch? Everything felt hazy, heavy, his limbs leaden with unwanted desire.

His body ached, responding against his will, hardening under her ministrations, but his mind screamed in protest.

He clenched his fists, willing his hands to push her away: At once, summoning every ounce of willpower, he grabbed Breilla’s wrists and twisted them hard, pinning them away from his body.

"Stop," he snarled, his voice breaking with the effort, eyes squeezed shut against the temptation.

But Breilla only smirked wider, her eyes gleaming with wicked determination.

She leaned in despite the restraint, her body arching to maintain contact. Slowly, deliberately, she kissed his nipple, her tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive peak, sucking gently at first, then with more fervor.

The sensation was electric, shooting straight to his core, sapping his strength like venom. Ashen’s resolve crumbled under the assault, his muscles went slack, his body betraying him once more as he fell back onto the bed, weak and trembling.

"Told ya..." she whispered.